


Daybreak

by grammartian



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blind Character, Ignis-centric, M/M, Non-Explicit Smut, Post-Game, Promnis - Freeform, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, kind of, mostly implied - Freeform, onesided ignoct, onesided promptis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10098539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grammartian/pseuds/grammartian
Summary: Ignis and the people around him, the people he's met, deal with the aftermath of the Apocalypse in a world once again bathed in sunlight.





	1. Not a crowning...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SheerahChi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheerahChi/gifts).



> This is going to center around Ignis as he once again has to get used to living without Noctis. Chapters will be mostly short, though I have some planned that will be a bit longer. I can't guarantee that they'd be necessarily chronological, so it might get confusing.  
> That said, this will deal with a lot of grief and heavy thoughts, since everyone has lost too much.  
> Tags will change, rating may as well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but a royal funeral.

They somehow just know where they would find him. Where else but the throne room?

Walking into it, Ignis shudders from the cold air and freezes when he smells blood among the dust. Prompto's choked gasp on his left tells him all he needs to know. They walk up the stairs in silence, the steps still familiar in his mind, he can almost see them as they ascend to the throne where Noct finally sits. He wants to pretend he is attending Noct's crowning. Gladiolus is his brawn, Prompto is his heart, Ignis is his brain.

They reach the top, they kneel, they listen to the words of the crowning...

But all he hears is a silence heavy with pain and grief, and instead of his crowning, they shall attend his funeral.

Gladiolus carries his body, Ignis on his right, Prompto on the left.

Ignis is too dazed to realise where they take him but then they've stopped and then he's kneeling next to him and he takes off his coat to cover him. The other two do the same.

A hand on his shoulder urges him to stand up and his legs shake but he does, thankful for the support of that hand in that moment.

They set fire to him as the sun rises for the first time in a decade over this ghostly world of ruin. As he promised, Ignis looks up at the star in the sky, not seeing more than a painful light brighter than any other. And yet, he feels no warmth from it.

All he feels is the heat from the fire and the heaviness of the hand on his arm, keeping him from falling again or taking a step forward.


	2. Greater good be damned,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _he can't live like this._

_Noct is gone again_ , is the first thought in Ignis's head every morning,  _and this time it is permanent._

He holds no hope for another miracle, that the Crystal would just spit him out again. Despite his efforts, over the years he'd actually stopped believing he would ever be back. A decade is a long time to miss someone.

When Noct did come back, it was a short relief, but it had been far too soon that he was taken away again, forever. Sometimes Ignis finds himself indulging in selfish fantasies where Noct never abandoned them, never abandoned _him._ Greater good be damned, living like this is no life at all. He knows he has no right and always ends these thoughts with guilt.

Light has been restored to the world, but Ignis's world has never been darker. During the ten years, he still had hope, hope he'll get to talk to Noct again, that he will end this everlasting nightmare and all will be right again. He got that, to talk to him, and the infinite night finally ended, but at what cost?

He had only ever praised the Six as it was customary, and a figure of speech, but now that he's seen just how little they care, he cuts it out of his vocabulary completely. What would such cruel gods care if he spoke praise of them or not, anyway. He swallows the curses towards them, but still thinks them in the safety of his mind.


	3. Loneliness is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _better than pity from your friends._

Ignis is loyal. He is not the type of man easily attached to people, but once he does, it is permanent. Although he has already spent over a third of his life away from Noctis, he still has him in mind with everything he does. It is why he is still alive, will be until his last breath.

-

Ignis is diligent. He never leaves a job half-done. Always giving his 100%, 200% when it was needed. Anything for the prince.

There was always so much to do and that would often times leave him with 0% for himself, but it was alright. Being around Noct was the biggest reward he could ask for.

-

Ignis is hardworking. He likes routine. Has been living in it his entire life. Wake up, ventilate the room, make coffee. Visit the bathroom, get dressed. Look at the planner for what needs to be done today. He never missed a task, was never late for anything. He didn't even need an alarm, waking up at the exact time he has to.

He still wakes up with the dawn, still opens the windows and makes coffee, then gets dressed, but he can no longer see his planner. He doesn't have one. And his tasks have become far fewer and not so time-critical.

Some mornings leaving the bed feels like climbing a vertical wall with no equipment to do it, nor a way around it. He does it anyway, knowing that if he gives into the temptation he won't rise again.

-

(Unfortunately,) Ignis is perceptive. Nothing could evade his sharp stare, how Noct would hesitate before lying he'd done his homework, or lightly touch his hair before lying he didn't eat junk food before dinner. But also how he would slouch that bit more when something was troubling him, the crease between his eyes, a painful reminder that the Prince was also just a teenage boy.

Now he is just as keen, even if he no longer sees, but he finds even more nuances in people's voices, their breathing, can imagine their mannerisms from the shifting of their clothes. He hates when in all that he finds a certain careful awkwardness, offending with how much it wishes not to do that. He hates how much it angers him, for he is not the type of man to hold a grudge.

-

Ignis is, despite all, _proud_. Raised as a noble, and as the one meant to be the future's king right hand, he had confidence and self-worth instilled into him from a young age. The pride is not unfounded, he is good at the things he does, and he does whatever Noctis needs. Did. Needed.

He's been the one taking care of others for most of his life and can't bear it when he is seen as helpless, never has. Even right after his injury, he was ready to stand by Noctis's side and fight. The others saw Noct as selfish for his behavior, but his trust in Ignis and refusal to act like he was fragile had been reassuring.

It's been _ten bloody years_  living like this, he can deal with it. He cannot deal with Prompto and Gladiolus's too soft voices when they ask if he needs something, they're there, an offer of help hidden between the lines. He didn't need them after  _he_ had disappeared, he definitely does not need them now. At least, that is what Ignis tells himself after he finally speaks his mind with no filter, anger and frustration boiling out of him, and they leave too soon after visiting him for the first time since _then_ , and he knows he's hurt them and wouldn't blame them if they never contact him again.

Loneliness is better than the pity of your friends, or at least that is what he tells himself as he sits on the couch alone. He doesn’t go out unless he has something to do, and rarely talks to people outside of handling what he has to. Somehow, that is easier than he expected.

-

Above all, Ignis is a survivor. He knows there will be a day when he doesn't rise from his bed, when he doesn't eat at all, when he just does not move and wishes he stops breathing and beating altogether, but he has made a promise and so this is the only thing in his life that he procrastinates, and he rises to greet another dawn.


	4. They mourn him together,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _two pairs of lips around the same name like a prayer._

One evening, when Ignis is contemplating what he could do, Prompto knocks on the door. He didn't expect him to talk to him again, after the things he'd said to him and Gladiolus, but he opens the door and lets him in. He cannot see him but imagines a bright smile, and the crinkling of plastic tells him he's brought a present.

As he takes off his shoes and Ignis locks the door again, Prompto explains he just got back from a hunt, and since he realised he was nearby, he just _had to pay a visit, hope you aren't busy?_

Ignis shakes his head no and invites him in, offers to warm up a meal from earlier. Prompto instead holds up the bag and asks if he has anything that goes with whiskey.

They talk over glasses, the years of drifting apart melting away with each sip and word. Ignis starts with an apology for the way he’d behaved the last time they talked, and Prompto waves it away, apologizing on his own that they shouldn’t have treated him like that and that he’d agreed with Gladiolus to not do it anymore. Ignis nods politely, thinks he’ll see about that, though Prompto does seem to not be that careful; however, that could just be the alcohol.

They talk and talk and all topics lead back to the same man, the man who had saved them and then the world, at the cost of his life. Sharing that pain somehow dulls the ache, and they indulge in memories they had with Noct, funny stories they remembered him by, laughing even at things that aren’t that funny.

They talk and then neither is sure how it gets there but smiling lips meet scarred ones, hands meet sides of faces and bodies, and soon clothes meet the floor. They don't raise from the couch, both afraid if they let go for just a heartbeat the magic would be broken.

They mourn him together, two pairs of lips muffled as they moan the same name like a prayer, alcohol fogging minds just enough to ignore how incorrect the map of the other's body is. Fingertips and teeth leave light marks of passion fueled by a shared grief, hot breath against wet skin whispering things they never dared to before it was too late.

-

The gentle touch of sunlight brings morning, and with it the end of their illusion. Contrast to the things said last night, they clean themselves up in silence, holding only necessary conversation. They dress, and with a hushed goodbye Prompto leaves, and they never speak of this again, the hazy memory filed away in their minds under _T_ _hings we do to survive._ Ignis deals with his sore head and body and heart and looks out the window with his unseeing eyes, only registering the bright light of the ever rising sun and finally makes a decision he's been contemplating for months now; he will call it _Daybreak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure how to tag the pairings here, I put it as Ignis/Noctis since it centers around Ignis and he loves Noct, put the rest in the tags so it's apparent how they are. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them!


End file.
